


A word so dark and beautiful

by Wolven_Spirits



Series: The Thrall of Pleasure [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Don't Try This At Home, Explicit Sexual Content, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Grow Up Together, Improper Preparation, M/M, Mild Angst, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Harry Potter, Possessive Tom Riddle, Possessive Voldemort (Harry Potter), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-24 00:23:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20017225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolven_Spirits/pseuds/Wolven_Spirits
Summary: Harry thought he was finally free to spread his wings after Tom left to travel the world.He should have known better.





	A word so dark and beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> I blame [Discord](https://discord.gg/Dw9R96) for all the smut I've started writing.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> (Beta'd by the ever wonderful aroundloafofbread)

The glass fell from Harry’s hand and shattered on the floor. “T-Tom?” He stammered, trying to quell the trepidation that filled him at the sight of the man he thought he had escaped.

Really, he should have known better than to think that Tom would have forgotten about him. Would have moved on to someone else.

Because Tom had promised that he would never let Harry go. And Tom never broke his promises.

Still, the illusion had been nice. The past five years had been almost peaceful. A little boring, perhaps, but he’d started making a name for himself. He’d made friends outside of those Tom had approved. He’d even gone on a couple dates.

But seeing Tom again, sitting in Harry’s living room as if he had never left…

Harry knew that those years would soon be history - a vague recollection in the face of the tempest that was Tom Marvolo Riddle.

“Harry,” Tom crooned his name in a voice that was deeper and more resonant than it had been when they attended Hogwarts. “You seem surprised to see me. You hadn’t… forgotten about me, I hope?”

Harry shook his head mutely. For how could he forget about Tom? Tom, the boy who had defended Harry from bullies at the orphanage, demanding only his utmost loyalty in return. Tom, who had guided Harry throughout Hogwarts, requiring only Harry’s submission in return. Tom, who had helped Harry learn to control his powers, asking only for his love, his soul in return.

And who had then left him, alone and more than a little lost, as if he were a mere trinket, no longer of value to him.

No, Harry could never forget Tom. He had simply hoped that Tom would forget him, that he might finally move on.

“Good,” Tom smiled. “You didn’t seem… _happy_ to see me. I do hope my presence here is not an inconvenience…” His eyes flashed red and Harry felt a jolt of fear. Tom’s eyes… they had always been a cold, clear blue. What… what had Tom _done_?

“O-Of course not. I was just… startled, is all,” Harry said a little lamely. He couldn’t meet Tom’s knowing look. Couldn’t face the mocking smile.

“Startled. Of course,” Tom flashed his teeth in a grin that chilled Harry. He observed Harry for a moment, his head tilting to the side as if curious. “Won’t you join me, Harry? I’ve missed you all these years.” He gestured at the spot next to him on the love seat.

“I - “ Harry hesitated. It was only a moment. But it was a moment too long.

Tom’s smile faded and he stood slowly, eyes fully red as he stared down at Harry. Tom had grown since they had graduated. He was taller now by at least a head, and he had filled out from their lankier days. Neither of them was particularly bulky, but Tom looked… strong. Powerful.

Harry felt a shiver travel up his spine. He took a hesitant step back and saw something flash across Tom’s face.

“Harry,” his name was breathed. “Just a few years, and you forget everything I have done for you?” Tom stepped forward and Harry took another one back. “You think you have a life now without me? You got a job, made some _friends_ ,” Tom chuckled, and it was a dark sound full of shadows. “Went on a few dates with that lovely lady - what was her name again?” Tom paused, pretending to think. “Oh yes, little Ginevra Weasley. Such a quaint girl.”

Harry’s back hit the wall and his breath hitched as Tom stopped mere inches away, leaning forward until his lips brushed Harry’s ear, his breath hot against his neck. “You created such a wonderful illusion for yourself, my precious, sweet Harry. You lied to yourself so beautifully. Did you believe it? Did it feel real? Because it wasn’t. You know that, don’t you.”

Harry whimpered. He wanted to shake his head. Wanted to deny it. He didn’t need Tom. He didn’t want him. He was happier without him. He wanted to say all these things.

But he couldn’t.

“You missed me, didn’t you,” Tom pulled back then and traced a gentle touch down Harry’s cheek. “You missed me so much that you tried to replace me with a sense of normality.” He laughed then, sounding almost delighted. “As if you could ever be normal. As if either of us was meant for anything less than greatness.”

Harry closed his eyes, his skin burning just from the lightest trace of Tom’s skin against his. It had always been this way. Harry was weak before Tom, falling to his whims without a fight. It had always been this way, and - “T-Tom…” it always would.

Red eyes glowed. “I do not use that pathetic name anymore,” he said, lip curling. “I go by another name. One far more powerful.” His keen eyes traced Harry’s face. “But you already know that, don’t you. You’ve been watching me just as much as I’ve been watching you.” He smiled then. “There’s no need to pretend. Won’t you call me by my _real_ name, Harry?”

Harry stared back at the man whose skin was paler, waxier than it had been before. Whose eyes were crimson red and filled with a dark fire. Whose face, despite his descent into Dark Magics, was still unfairly handsome. He could feel light brushes of magic against his skin, teasing, tantalizing. He glanced away, a scowl forming. “I was fine without you,” he said coldly, unable to deny the glee that rushed through him at the sight of Tom’s face. “I don’t need you anymore. I have other - “

Tom’s magic flared, and Harry’s knees buckled. He hit the ground and nearly groaned as he was surrounded by sweet and sinful darkness, so very hot against his skin. Pleasure flared where it touched and he couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped his lips, his hands reaching out to grasp Tom’s legs. He leaned his head against the man’s thigh, panting as he tried to breathe through the sudden haze of lust.

“Others,” Tom mocked. “Do you really, Harry? Do you think they would stand by you if they knew who you truly are? If they knew your deepest and darkest secrets like I do? Do you think they would be your friends, your lovers, if they knew how depraved you are, Harry?”

Harry whined, lifting his head higher, pressing his lips to the bulge between Tom’s legs, only to be jerked back by a hand gripping his hair.

“Do you think they would like you if they knew how much of a wanton whore you are, so very desperate for my cock?”

The hand in Harry’s hair tightened as he strained forward, eyes riveted on Tom’s crotch. He needed it. He needed to feel Tom inside and out. He needed Tom to encapsulate him and to fill him as no one else could. Harry let out a whimper as he was denied, his whole body straining against Tom’s grip. His hands drifted upwards but were immediately caught and he was forced backwards once again, arms slammed against the wall as Tom pinned him with ease.

“Now now, Harry. You may have what you desire. All you have to do… is submit to me. Beg for me, Harry. Use that pretty tongue of yours, and I shall give you what you want.”

Harry struggled, but Tom’s grip was immovable. He knew what Tom wanted. It was what the man had started back when they were children. And now, all these years later, Harry knew he had achieved it. He could feel it in the miasmic air that surrounded them, a heavy weight that seeped to his very core. A level of magic that surpassed all others. “Please,” he rasped, his throat dry from the deep heaving breaths he’d been taking.

Tom raised a brow but otherwise did not move.

Harry closed his eyes. His head fell to the side, exposing his neck. “Please,” he said again, loving and hating the words that fell from his lips. “My Lord.”

He heard Tom exhale, a pleased rumble reverberating from his chest. “Such a good boy, Harry,” he said, finally releasing Harry’s wrists, his hand moving instead to thread once again through Harry’s hair. His magic danced around them, and Harry’s mind felt fuzzy as he breathed it in.

Reaching up with trembling hands, Harry undid the button of his lord’s trousers and unzipped them, then freed his cock, letting it rest in his hand for a moment, hot and hard. It was larger than he remembered and Harry licked his lips before pressing a kiss to the tip, smearing precome upon his lips. Then he opened his mouth and slid forward until he felt his lord’s cock press against the back of his throat.

He slid his tongue along the underside of his lord’s length, then swirled it just under the head. The grip in his hair tightened and the dark and powerful Lord Voldemort groaned, hips pressing forward, further into Harry’s touch. And Harry welcomed him, even as he choked a little, no longer used to taking cock into his throat.

Taking no heed of Harry’s predicament, his lord pushed forward, further and deeper, until Harry could feel every inch of him in his throat. His hands clenched tighter as he struggled to adjust, eyes watering and throat burning. He pulled back slightly, only to be pushed back by a rough hand in his hair. It took him a few more moments before he could finally get used to something so large, so incredible inside him.

His hand reached up to brush against his bulging throat, and he made a sound of deep pleasure, pressing down and trembling at the groan emerging from his lord’s mouth.

“You still take my cock so well, Harry. You missed it, didn’t you. I can feel how eager you are.” Lord Voldemort grunted as he thrust again, then ground his pelvis against Harry’s mouth, hissing in approval as Harry swallowed around him.

The air was thick with Lord Voldemort’s magic as he pushed lazily into Harry’s mouth, using his hand to keep Harry’s head in place.

And Harry couldn’t help but moan around his cock, arousal coursing through his veins both from his lord’s touch and his magic, his nerves on fire. Lord Voldemort’s magic had been potent while they were students. Even then it had easily brought Harry to his knees, weak and trembling from an overload of stimulation. It was how the dark lord had first realized that Harry was sensitive to magic - could sense it. Light magic made Harry giddy and dizzy.

And dark magic…

Oh, how Harry craved the feel of dark magic. And who other than Lord Voldemort had such magic that could bring Harry to his knees, craving it, craving _Him_. Others might make his skin tingle, perhaps elicit a shiver. But his lord… oh how his lord seeped through every pore, into his very being, bringing him pleasure as no other could. And Harry had been surviving without him, stubborn as he was, but he had not been _living_. Because Harry needed Lord Voldemort as he needed air, water, and magic.

Harry could feel his own cock, hot and hard within the confines of his trousers, rubbing almost painfully against the cloth of his underwear. But he did not move to touch, focused solely as he was on his lord.

“Look at you, Harry, trembling for me.” Lord Voldemort chuckled, eyes tracing Harry’s features and the tears that dripped down his cheeks. “What would your _friends_ think if they could see you now?”

He was being goaded, Harry knew, but he could not help but think of how they would turn away from him, disgust obvious upon their faces. How pure and kind Cedric would be so disappointed that Harry was associated with a dark lord. How sweet and innocent Ginny would turn her back if she knew how easily Harry fell to his knees before his lord.

Their eyes met and Harry knew that Lord Voldemort was reading his mind from the way his mouth curled cruelly.

“They’re not worth your pain, Harry. They are nothing. But, I, your lord, am everything. Forget them. From now on, there is only me. There will only ever be me.”

Harry wanted to believe him. He wanted to trust his lord with every fibre of his being.

 _But you left me_.

The thought flashed across his mind before he could stop it. Lord Voldemort stilled, then jerked Harry’s head back. He gasped as his lord’s cock was ripped from his mouth, only to be replaced by lips.

His lord kissed him, hard and fierce.

“You are mine, Harry. You have always been, and you will always be. Never doubt that. Never doubt _me_.” The words were hissed against his lips right before his lord bit down, breaking skin before kissing Harry once more, the taste of blood mingling between them.

Harry breathed in sharply as the words seared themselves onto his skin, into his mind, thick and heavy with his lord’s magic. He felt something inside him settle, because magic did not lie. Could not lie. What his lord had said was a promise. An oath. One that bound him for eternity. One that commanded him just as much as it commanded his lord.

He smiled then, slow and pleased. “My Lord,” he breathed, his tongue darting out to taste the blood his lord had spilled. “I am yours,” he swore, his own magic reacting, writhing around his words. “Forever.”

Lord Voldemort’s eyes gleamed in triumph and he grinned fiercely. He trailed a gentle finger along Harry’s cheek, his touch unusually soft just for a moment. Then he gripped Harry’s shoulder and spun him around until Harry was pressed against the wall, his back arched.

There was a wand pressed against the nape of his neck. His lord trailed his hand downwards, and his clothes fell to the ground, cleanly slit. It was only moments until Harry was naked, skin tingling from the magic.

A hand traced along Harry’s back, over the swell of his ass, then down his thigh. It lingered tantalizingly close to his cock, but did not quite touch, leaving Harry panting and whining, hips jerking in involuntary thrusts as he searched for pleasure his lord did not quite deign to give him.

“Please,” Harry panted. “My Lord, please.” He did not dare reach down himself - not without his lord’s permission. But Merlin did he _need_.

Lord Voldemort sighed, an appreciative sound. “You do use that tongue of yours so well, don’t you, Harry.” His hands spread Harry’s cheeks, revealing the rosy nub that lay hidden between them. His Lord’s voice grew hungry. “But I will not be allowing you to touch. Not this time. This time you will wait for what I have to give you. But fear not, my sweet Harry,” he said, tracing a finger down to tease Harry’s hole, pushing forward only the slightest bit. “I will give you what you crave. What you desire. What you _need_.” His finger pulled away. “Now, what do you say to your lord, Harry?”

Harry closed his eyes, desire hot in his loins. “Thank you, My Lord. Thank you, thank you.”

His lord hummed approvingly. The tip of his wand nudged at Harry’s winking entrance, pushing in slightly and making him groan at the feel of being penetrated for the first time in so very many years.

There was a rush of magic and something cool and slick coursed inside him, making him wriggle in slight discomfort. He disliked the cool sensation, but nonetheless did not complain, for it was his lord’s prerogative to use what method he so desired.

The wand disappeared and Harry sighed in slight disappointment, already missing the feel of something inside him. Anything of his lord’s. His wand, his fingers, his cock. Harry would take anything. He would take everything.

“So eager, my darling Harry.” Something large and blunt brushed across his hole. “You’ll take what I give you, won’t you?”

“Yes, yes My Lord,” Harry breathed, pushing his ass back against his lord’s touch. He didn’t care if it hurt. Didn’t care if he wasn’t properly prepared. Didn’t care if he was ripped open by his lord. “ _Please_.”

Lord Voldemort paused then, his hand resting on the small of Harry’s back. “I should not have left you for so long,” he said quietly, startling Harry. “Never will you leave my side again, Harry.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply but he found himself gasping instead as his lord pushed forward, the blunt head of his cock nudging against his tight hole until it began to yield, slowly but surely stretching until it could accommodate the large member. Whining in pain, Harry clawed at the wall, torn between wanting it to stop and wanting more. Wanting his lord to claim him, to mark him, to leave his essence deep inside where no one could ever take it from him.

It burned, deep inside him. It hurt. And Harry loved it. Wanted more of it. Wanted _all_ of it. He panted, cheeks flushed, as his lord pushed deeper and deeper until he was fully seated, thick and hot, his hands gripping Harry’s hips so tightly. He bent over Harry, his breath coming in quick bursts against his shoulder.

“So tight,” Lord Voldemort groaned, pulling out slightly before pressing back in.

It burned each time he moved, but Harry relished the feeling of being so full, stretched to his limit, filled by his lord, his most precious person. He whimpered as his lord began to thrust slowly, each time brushing against that one spot inside him that made pleasure rush through him in fiery heat.

The thrusts were almost lazy, even as his lord gripped him tightly, tongue running along the skin of his neck, teeth biting down in order to mark him.

“Ah,” Harry panted, his cock so painfully hard. He wanted nothing more than for his lord to touch him, to wrap his fingers around him and stroke him until he came. But his lord did not move his hands except to grasp Harry’s hair and pull his head back until his neck strained.

“Is it good, Harry? When your lord gives you what you need?”

“Yes-s,” Harry groaned out, his hips moving in sync with his lord’s thrusts. “It’s so good, My Lord. So good…”

Lord Voldemort sighed in pleasure as he straightened and trailed a hand down Harry’s back, his finger sliding between the shoulder blades as if in contemplation.

“You’re mine, aren’t you, Harry?” He murmured, never ceasing his leisurely thrusts even as Harry whined and writhed, desperate for more.

“Yes, yes I’m yours,” Harry babbled, pleasure clouding his mind as his prostate was brushed, again and again in agonizingly slow pleasure. “Yours, My Lord. All yours.”

Humming, Lord Voldemort traced a design across his skin with his finger, before smiling slowly. It was a dark look, one that was dangerously possessive, and it sent a thrill of lust through Harry.

Eyes glazed, Harry craned his head back to watch as his lord retrieved his wand and traced it along his back where his finger had been moments before. Everything felt too hot, and Harry was so close, but their current pace was _just_ too slow for him to come. He needed… just a little more…

There was a flare of his lord’s magic and Harry moaned, feeling it engulf him in a swell of pleasure. The tip of the wand against his back began to burn and Harry cried out, tears springing to his eyes as his lord whispered a word so dark and beautiful.

“Morsmordre.”

Harry screamed. Pleasure, white hot and sinfully painful shot through him as his lord’s magic pierced his skin and delved down to his very soul. He could feel it spreading like molten ecstasy across his back. And then he came, harder than he ever had before, his eyes rolling back as his orgasms ripped through him, fiery hot as it mixed with the pleasure of his lord’s magic. His hips jerked and his come splattered on the wall in front of him, thick and white as it slowly began to trickle down to the floor.

He clenched around his lord and felt him stutter behind him. Then his lord _pulsed_ , releasing his essence, hot and potent inside him. Harry gasped for breath, a second round of pleasure flaring at the feel of his lord’s orgasm.

Finally his lord’s wand left his back, but even so the magic lingered, and Harry sighed in utter contentedness. Because now he would always be connected to his lord. Would always have a piece of his lord with him. Forever his lord was branded to his core, his magic, his soul.

Sharp aftershocks of pleasure jolted up his spine as slowly his lord slide from inside him. Harry could feel a hot trail of come drip down his leg and finally allowed his legs to collapse. He was swiftly caught and pulled back to be cradled against his most precious Lord Voldemort.

“I will admit,” his lord murmured in his ear, “that I missed you very much those long years that I was away. And now that I am back, I’m afraid I won’t be letting you leave my sight.” He pulled Harry to the side and laid him down upon the couch, perching on the edge so that he could run his hands along the fresh mark on Harry’s back.

“Mm,” Harry murmured tiredly, pleasure still sparking across his skin even as exhaustion pulled at his eyelids. “My Lord,” he sighed into the hand that brushed through his hair, straightening his wayward locks. “Don’t leave me.”

“Never again,” Lord Voldemort promised, red eyes darkened. Harry watched distantly as his mouth moved, words slipping from his lips like so many serpents wreathed in magic. “I’ll be keeping you by my side,” he smiled, his expression cold and darkly possessive. “Forever.”


End file.
